Showing posts from 2015

Father to Son

Today is my due date. For many women, today is the day when all the anxiety really kicks in because you know you will meet your child soon. For me, today we are celebrating two weeks with my baby boy. I haven't written about it, though I promise the story of his arrival from my point of view will come soon. However, as I was cleaning out all of the solicitations in my email box, I found an email from the night my son was born, from my husband to me.

Jeremy has never mentioned this email, not once in the two weeks since Evan's birth. In my post-birth haze, I never realized it was there. However, after finding it today, I have to share it with all of you. These are the heartfelt words of my husband on the day he first met his son. As you can imagine, I was a tearful mess after reading this.

It’s hard to describe exactly what I’m feeling.  If you know me, you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m outwardly just generally happy at becoming a father and love the fact that Evan constantly s…

Too much time on my hands....

So, it's been a very long time since I posted.

Much has happened, but I've had a difficult time deciding what I should and should not share. Infertility makes me cautious like that.

However, over the last few weeks, I've gone through some things worth mentioning. It began to feel disingenuous NOT to talk about everything that is going on, being that I have been so open about my struggles with infertility. I don't think everyone on the Internet needs to know about my every waking moment, but I'm pretty sure some folks might like to know the broad strokes.

So, here goes.

The last month has been a whirlwind.

Early this year, I was interviewed by a writer from Redbook magazine about the financial aspect of infertility. I figured I might warrant a line in the article, but earlier this month, I learned I was the lead in the article. So, around the middle of the month, when the November edition of Redbook magazine hit newsstands, I got to see my interview in writing. It w…

The Small Moments

During the days when I was struggling to conceive, the words flowed easily because I knew others were feeling as I was and that all too often, their voices were silent. I shared my story because I knew it was like that of others and I didn't want anyone to feel alone.

Today, I enter my 25th week of pregnancy. I am on the downhill side of the second trimester and the reality that a little boy will be coming home with me in the not-too-distant future is becoming less difficult to grasp. I realize I have written remarkably little about my pregnancy. It's not because I haven't been amazed and delighted by the things that have happened, but it is because I don't want to become the cliche.

In my last post, I acknowledged that I was having some issues with protein in my urine. To date, I have not been diagnosed with any pregnancy complications. My doctor is still incredibly vigilant, which makes it easier for me to sleep at night. I am grateful for his diligence, as always. I…

The Notorious J-U-G

There are many things I never thought I would experience in my life.

For a long time, pregnancy was one of them.

Then, one of the treatments worked and this infertile gal got pregnant, with the help of a small army. As a pregnant girl, I had no idea how to write for my audience. I had loads to say when infertility was torturing me. But, there are SO MANY mommy bloggers. I have so many friends who are still fighting in the infertility trenches. How do I write authentically but with regard for their struggles?

Well... as I wrestled with these notions, life plopped a big old dose of inspiration in front of me... in the form of a rather large orange jug.

I haven't written about the ins and outs of pregnancy because every pregnant person has them. I've been tired. My belly itches. I deal with nausea and the like.

But, whatever. All the pregnant ladies are doing it.

However, a few weeks ago, I went into one of my prenatal appointments with Dr. S. Typically, these are short, we liste…

It's a ...

I've felt awkward about writing this blog since I made my pregnancy announcement. I have met so many incredible women in the infertility community, a community of which I will always be a part.

However, I know how it feels when the infertility blogger turns into the pregnant blogger or mom blogger. As much as you might connect with that person, as a member of the infertility community, it always hurts a little.

However, I can't deny the experience I have had over the last three months. They have been simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. I have overthought everything and worried. But, I have also experienced new joys I never thought I would have the opportunity to experience.

First of all, anyone who read my blog regularly knows I am a fan of Dr. S. But, honestly, he is beyond my expectations awesome. He has helped alleviate my worries and guided J and I through the choices we have had thus far.  Every single person, especially those who have weathered infertility, shoul…

A Bereaved Mother Forever

Today is International Bereaved Mothers' Day, a day when women who have lost children are acknowledged in the pain and struggle they face in a world without their child.

I am not a member of this community, but I have met several remarkable women who are. These are women who celebrate the all too short lives of their children and make joy from the deep sorrow they have experienced. These are women who find a way to make the world different to honor the memory of their children.

So, if I'm not a member of this community, why am I writing about them? What could I possibly have to say on the matter. That's a question I have asked myself over and over throughout the last several years. Like in infertility, I never want to say the wrong thing about a group in which I have no stake.

However, just a few days ago, I had an epiphany. I knew someone who was close to me who was a bereaved mother. I could share her story. She would want me to share her story since she no longer can.


The Space Between

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. This week also marks my second year as an "open" infertility blogger, sharing my heartaches and real life story with you.

This anniversary also marks the true beginning of many friendships I have made with women quite literally all over the continent. These women have laughed and cried with me. They understand me better than most people I see on a daily basis. They are my infertile sisters. I have grown to truly love and respect these sisters.
Usually, by this point in the game for Infertility Awareness Week, I have posted a million times about all things infertility. You all know our story. We've been married over ten years and have wanted a child for so long, but life didn't lead us down that path. What is there really left to say?
You know how this goes: So, we fought the infertility beast. We found a wonderful OBGYN named Dr. S, who led us through testing,  a PCOS diagnosis, surgery and early medicated cycles. We…

My "meaningless" child-less life

I haven't posted much lately. Maybe it's because I have been conducting research with 100 seventh graders and am spent at the end of the day. Maybe it's because I am working out some things in my own mind. Maybe it's because I've gotten back on the gym wagon I fell off. Most likely, it is because my latest treatment cycle has once again failed and I'm still "Not the Momma."

Once upon a time, before I really looped my blog readers in on my treatment cycles, I wondered what I would do when I had to break bad news via my blog. You know, how much would I share. What details would they want. Now I know. I stay away from the blog. It's probably better for everyone that way.

So, I invested my heart and hopes into my first injectable IUI cycle. Everyone on Team Baby Wilson could feel the optimism. But, the plethora of good follicles did not yield a pregnancy. So, I'm on a month of birth control pills to alleviate all of the cysts from the "great…

Dear Infertility

Dear Infertility,

I hate you. My mother taught me that hate is a strong word, but in this case, it is completely appropriate and totally justified. I'm not one of those ladies who is writing a love letter to you, telling you how you have taught her how strong and smart she is. I'm not writing a thank you letter either, since I'm not thankful for you at all.

Infertility, you are cruel. You are a huge part of my life that virtually no one understands. The taboos that persist around you mean people don't see why infertility is something that affects every part of my life.  People don't think you are an illness, a disease. No, because of the silence that accompanies you, people still believe you are a choice.

In fact, you have done such a stellar job of being a quiet monster that people believe you aren't truly real. They think if I "stop trying" you will be defeated. They really think if I "just adopt" you will go away. They offer up the wisdo…

Tales from the Needle-Phobe Infertile

Let me tell you a story about a six year old little girl, all decked out in a pink, ruffled dress and matching socks. Her hair was carefully styled in adorable curls and her patent leather shoes couldn't shine more. Her mom dressed her up because she had a doctor's appointment. There were no dirty knees or messy ponytails that day. Her mom made sure she was ready to get her vaccination so she could start kindergarten in the fall. The rule-following, people-pleasing little girl got into the car and went to the doctor's office as her mother told her to do.

I'm not sure why her mother chose that dress, but I know she was grateful she put the ruffled bloomers on her daughter before leaving the house. When the nurse came into the room with the needle for the vaccination, that delightful little girl who prided herself on doing the things she was supposed to, turned into some kind of primitive beast who howled and crawled under the table in the room. It took two adults to ge…

Pay it Forward for Isaiah

Infertility has given me a few gifts.

In all seriousness, there are a few things infertility has taught me and has given me that I did not have in my life before starting down this path. One of the most important gifts has been the gift of sisterhood from my infertile sisters.

From these women, I have seen outrageous acts of courage and selflessness, resilience and tenacity, kindness and gratitude. We all support one another, no matter what, because we are in the trenches, fighting against an invisible enemy. Though our battles may be varied, one thing remains the same: we all bear scars from the fights we've endured.

One of my sisters in this struggle is Kerri. She is a wife and mother, but moreover, she is a remarkable woman who has the strength to create beauty from heartbreak.

Three years ago, Kerri's oldest son, Isaiah, was born still. After a full-term pregnancy, she suffered a fate made of the stuff of expectant mothers' nightmares.

Since that time, Kerri continues …

The Great Insurance Paradox

Infertility has acquainted me more deeply with the "ins and outs" (pardon the very bad pun) of the ever fascinating world of medical insurance. First, I learned to speak a new language so I would understand the medical speak Dr. M liked to bombard me with. Then, I educated myself in the terms and conditions of the State Employees Health Plan as to save every dime I could in pursuing Baby Wilson.

Let me just put this out there: dealing with insurance sucks. I am sure this is the case for everyone, no matter what health condition you are handling. I'm sure the good people working the helpline for my insurance carrier really are good human beings. But, boy oh boy, the policies and procedures of the insurance company make getting a straight answers out of them next door to impossible.

Let's talk about the 2 1/2 hours of my life I will never get back again. When I first met with Dr. D back in the summer, I decided I would call my insurance provider. He wanted to try differe…